


It's a Big Bed, Barry

by Thette



Series: My Coldflash Bingo [1]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Breakfast, Breaking and Entering, Discord: Flarrowverse Shipyard, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Leonard Snart Lives, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, No Smut, Possessive Barry Allen, Post-Oculus Leonard Snart, Pre-Relationship, Sharing a Bed, canon divergence - no westallen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 06:05:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17637224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thette/pseuds/Thette
Summary: Leonard Snart, resurrected and with nowhere else to go, breaks into Barry's apartment and insists on sharing his bed.Barry is, in order: 1. scared 2. confused 3. asleep 4. aroused 5. amused





	It's a Big Bed, Barry

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Это огромная кровать, Барри](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17779007) by [Rosy_Warner](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosy_Warner/pseuds/Rosy_Warner)



> Written as a birthday present for the lovely Sura, and for the bingo square "Bedsharing" for Coldflash Bingo.
> 
> Unbetaed, but big thanks to Kleptoandpyro, Tigstripe and SophiaCatherine for help with the ending.

"Move over," a gruff, male voice said, far too close for comfort, startling Barry awake. He'd never admit to the high-pitched yell that came out of his mouth as he rolled out of bed. "Not what I meant, but it works," the man commented, sounding significantly more amused. And familiar, very familiar. Barry struggled out from his cocoon of blankets and sheets.

"Snart?!" he shouted, catching the thief's gaze. Snart didn't even bother with a reply to that, just gave Barry a tilt of his head and a raised eyebrow. He was sitting on Barry's bed, on the edge of the same sheet that restricted Barry's movements, in the spot where Barry had been lying just minutes before. "What? How? I thought you were…"

"Dead?" he asked. "Tried that. Didn't like it." He fluffed a pillow, and moved it towards the headboard. It sounded like there was more to the story, but it was—Barry glanced at the clock radio on the bedside table—4:45 AM, and he really wasn't in the mood for the riddles and hints he would get if he poked Snart about it. All Barry wanted was to get back in bed and sleep.

"Why are you here?" he couldn't resist asking.

Snart gave him a jerky one-shouldered shrug. "Turns out criminals are opportunistic. Don't have any safe houses left after three years away."

That made sense. Somewhat. Barry decided not to argue about the breaking and entering. It was, after all, not the first time. "Sure. Want a blanket for the sofa?"

"The sofa that's half covered in… aromatic old pizza boxes? Thanks, but I'll pass." Barry winced. Yeah. He had been reverting to his old bachelor ways, after moving out from Joe's. And he needed to eat a lot these days.

By now, Barry had untangled himself from the fabric, and could try to stand up. Somewhat surprisingly, Snart stretched out a hand to help him up, and Barry grasped it, realizing that he'd never touched the man before, not without at least one layer of fabric or leather between them. It was an odd thing to think about, in a dark bedroom in the middle of the night. His hands were soft and strong, the nails cut short and well-filed. He must take good care of his hands, Barry thought, but of course he did: they were the instruments he used to make a living. Belatedly, Barry discovered that he was standing up and still clasping his nemesis' hand. He withdrew, reluctantly, and he could feel the tips of Snart's fingers lingering on his own.

"So, what did you have in mind?" He asked. Questions, questions; it seemed like he couldn't stop asking questions.

Snart smirked. "Thought that was obvious when I told you to move over."

"You… want to share the bed?"

"It's a big bed, Barry," he replied, bouncing the b:s with careful enunciation. That was some impressive alliteration. Snart bent down, picking up the flat sheet and shaking it out on top of the mattress. With efficient moves, he made the bed in a style Barry was all too familiar with.

"Prison style, really?"

"Force of habit," Snart replied, moving on to the blankets and pillows, all without looking Barry in the eye.

"Because when I got out, I decided to never, ever make my bed like that again." Why had he shared that tidbit? He just wanted to leave the whole DeVoe debacle behind him.

Snart untied his boots and hung his jacket on one of the hangers in Barry's open closet. It looked like a stranger in there, making a polite visit to Barry's work shirts and blazers, he thought, shaking his head at his own ridiculousness. Aside from that, Snart didn't move to undress, but laid down on the bed in jeans and a long sleeved turtleneck. He picked the side Barry preferred, the side closest to the door. Barry suddenly felt underdressed in his boxers.

As Snart was making himself comfortable, hands crossed behind his head, he started speaking again. "I would love to know all about that, but not in the pre-dawn light." He was right, the smallest tendrils of light had started to shine in through the opening in the blinds.

"You're on my side," Barry said, eventually, as he stared down on the man resting on his bed, like he had every right to be there.

Snart huffed a short laugh. "From time to time, but don't count on it."

What? Oh… Yeah, that was good to know, but not what he had meant. "You're on my side of the bed." The only reply he got was Snart rolling his eyes at him. Barry grumbled, but got in on the wrong side. "At least give me my pillow, you asshole."

"Pillow preferences, really, Barry?" 

Barry just pursed his lips annoyedly in reply, and he got his memory foam pillow back. He wrapped himself up in blankets, leaving two for Snart, and debated with himself which position to use. On his belly was out, far too exposed. He couldn't exactly sleep on the side with his face towards his... Enemy? Frenemy? That's be too much like cuddling. Turned away from him would also make him feel exposed. That left him one single position to use. He mirrored Snart, rolling over to his back and putting his arms up. No, that didn't work, they'd poke each other with their elbows. Arms down? His hands were lined up with Snart's hips, and it was just a queen size bed. Too risky, he'd end up with a handful, and that would just be rude. Hands clasped over his belly? That could work.

"Barry," Snart half-whispered, "calm down!"

The hairs on Barry's neck rose. He could feel Snart's breath on his shoulder. That quiet, firm tone bypassed his rational brain and went straight for the instincts. His body decided it needed to follow Snart's order. The muscles he didn't know he'd been tensing relaxed. He wanted to talk about this situation, but relaxing like that drained his energy, and reminded him that he'd been woken in the middle of the night.

"'M jus' glad 'm off tomorrow," he slurred. "No 'larm." He turned, without meaning to, moving into a fetal position. One arm around his middle held him in place, but it didn't feel constricting.

"Go to sleep, Barry," Snart said from behind him, sounding amused.

***

Barry woke slowly, wiping the drool from his face. Wow, that had probably been his best sleep in years. He blinked the dryness away from his eyes, taking in the midday light from outside. A warm body was beside him in the bed, holding him firmly. The events of last night came back to him, piece by piece.

Snart, breaking in, insisting on a place in his bed. Cuddling him. Telling him what to do in a low voice, that brooked no argument, and Barry had liked it. Very much. He'd felt  _ safe _ and  _ loved. _ He made a mental note to revisit that thought at a later date, preferably when he wasn't  _ being held _ by said person.

Who surely must have woken up by now? Barry turned, coming eye to eye with Snart.

Wow, those eyes were blue...

...with little hints of green…

"Morning, Barry," he said, eventually, and Barry realized he'd been staring. He could feel a blush rise, and turned his face down.

"Morning, Snart," he mumbled, ashamed of himself. He looked at his own body, still wearing only underwear, contrasted with Snart's fully dressed body. Fully dressed, except for the socks, which he'd removed at some point, probably in his sleep. Like his hands, his feet were long and slender, and they were rubbing against Barry's calves. He definitely didn't mind.

His cock was starting to take an interest, too, and he suddenly felt very naked. In a flash, he was out of bed, wearing soft sweats and an oversized Star Labs t-shirt. He would deal with his unexpected attraction to his favorite villain later. Much later. At a point when said villain was not around.

A voice in his head, that sounded a lot like Cisco, started commenting sarcastically. "Unexpected? My dude, you've had a major crush on him for years. Time travel, prison visits, dates in shabby bars, 'team-ups' even after he betrayed you..." 

"Pancakes!" Barry shouted, in an effort to get mental Cisco to shut up. "I should go make pancakes!" 

Snart, on his bed, snorted. "Go for it. I'll hit the shower, try to rinse off the time travel funk."

There was so much Barry wanted to know. He flipped pancakes and fried eggs, thinking about Snart's resurrection, about the time travel hints he had dropped, about why it had taken him three years after his death to come back if he could time travel, if he'd come to Barry because it was convenient or because he also felt the same connection with Barry that Barry had always had felt with him. He wanted to touch him, to discover more of that tantalizing skin. And maybe, just maybe, get him to order him around a bit, in a situation that wasn't life or death.

Snart came out of the shower, smelling of Barry's shower gel, and wearing Barry's sweats and an old, stretched sweater, too small across his broad shoulders. Barry was not prepared for the possessive wave that hit him. It was all too domestic, too much, too soon.

"I don't normally do morning after breakfast," Snart said, with something that might have been a wink or maybe just a twitch of his eyelid. He filled his plate with pancakes, pouring a generous amount of syrup over them. "Oh, and when you invent Gideon, please don't program her with a ridiculous aversion to sugar."

Barry laughed, pointing at his own syrupy stack of pancakes, with a side of blueberry jam. "I accept no blame for that."

Maybe, just maybe, this would turn out okay after all. Maybe it wasn't so weird to have breakfast with someone who used to want to kill you. Maybe he could do this. He caught himself staring at Snart again, at his eyes and his mouth. Dark stickiness coated his lips, and he licked them slowly. Barry could feel his eyes grow wide.

"Barry, Barry, Barry, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you are sweet on me."

Barry groaned at the pun and buried his head in his hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm bad at replying to comments, but I love each and every kudo or comment. They make my day!
> 
> Tumblr: [bold-sartorial-statement](https://bold-sartorial-statement.tumblr.com)  
> Dreamwidth: [thette](https://thette.dreamwidth.org/)  
> Pillowfort: [Thette](https://www.pillowfort.io/Thette)
> 
> And feel free to join us in the [Flarrowverse Shipyard Discord server](https://discord.gg/D4RFsRq)!


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